greatest
joy of which I can dream."

"It is enough for you?"

"It would be enough if it need never be interrupted. But it is the
misfortune of our life that we are obliged to separate at the time when
the ties that unite us are the most strongly bound."

"Why should we separate?"

"Alas! Mamma? And daily bread?"

"If you did not leave your mother. If you need no longer worry about
your life?"

She looked at him, not daring to question him, not betraying the
direction of her thoughts except by a trembling that she could not
control in spite of her efforts.

"I mean if you become my wife."

"Oh, my beloved!"

"Will you not?"

She threw herself in his arms, fainting; but after a moment she
recovered.

"Alas! It is impossible," she murmured.

"Why impossible?"

"Do not ask me; do not oblige me to say it."

"But, on the contrary, I wish you to tell me."

She turned her head away, and in a voice that was scarcely perceptible,
in a stifled sigh:

"My brother--"

"It is greatly on account of your brother that I wish this marriage."

Then, suddenly: "Do you think me the man to submit to prejudiced
blockheads?"

CHAPTER XXXVIII. THE IMPORTANT QUESTION

Saniel had not waited until this day to acknowledge the salutary
influence that Phillis's presence exercised over him, yet the idea
of making her his wife never occurred to him. He thought himself
ill-adapted to marriage, and but little desirous of being a husband.
Until lately he had had no desire for a home.

This idea came to him suddenly and took strong hold of him; at least as
much on account of the calmness he felt in her presence, as by the charm
of her manner, her health, happiness, and gayety.

It was not only physical calm that she gave him by a mysterious affinity
concerning which his studies told him nothing, but of which he did not
the less feel all the force; it was also a moral calm.

There were duties he owed her, and terribly heavy were those he owed her
mother and Florentin.

He did all he could for Florentin, but this was not all that he owed
them. Florentin was in prison; Madame Cormier fell into a mournful
despair, growing weaker each day; and Phillis, in spite of her
elasticity and courage, bent beneath the weight of injustice.

How much the situation would be changed if he married her--for them, and
for him!

When Phillis was a little recovered from her great surprise, she asked
him:

"When did you decide on this